


Captive Audience

by GooseAndGold



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Meet Ugly?, Oneshot, Pre-Slash, blink-and-you-miss-it MT!Prompto, disclaimer: I have never played King's Knight, idk they're stuck in an elevator, meet cute?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:01:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22060732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GooseAndGold/pseuds/GooseAndGold
Summary: Prompto Argentum, as a Niflheim refugee with a dangerous past, is not allowed to enter the school chosen for the crown prince. Destiny sees fit to put them together, regardless.Or: the one where Prompto gets stuck in an elevator.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 14
Kudos: 448





	Captive Audience

**Author's Note:**

> Hi friends! I love this fandom and I love this ship, and frankly, it is about time I contribute some content to it.
> 
> It always struck me as odd that Prompto, as an MT unit and a clone, would be allowed to be a friend--nay, a member of the Crownsguard--to Noct. Not that this detail is important to read this little one-shot, but this is set in a world where Prom is a little more MT, and was absolutely not vetted to attend school with the prince. He meets him anyways, because destiny.

Prompto’s mind is on everything he has to do today, when he shrugs on his parka and steps out of the dentist’s office and into the hallway. He’s missed first period at school, so he’ll have to get notes once he’s at lunch. He absolutely needs to grab groceries during his walk home, or it’s instant ramen for supper. Apparently he also needs to get better at flossing, so that’s something to remember.

His tongue is poking absent-mindedly at his gums and the feel of anaesthetic from his very first filling, all the way into the elevator. He presses the button for the ground floor. Pulls out his phone.

Down on the ninth floor, someone steps in and mutters a ‘ _scuse me_ as he reaches in front of Prompto to press a different floor.

Then the elevator carriage shakes, and the lights go out.

Prompto says something, in his terror. It’s entirely unconscious, so he has no idea what it was the moment after it’s left his mouth. Then, seconds after the lights going out, there’s a whirring noise, a single electronic beep, and a single weak, pale-orange light flickers back on.

The elevator does not move again.

“Sweet Astrals, no,” he says.

The stranger—a dark-haired, pale young man, just an inch taller than Prompto and probably not much older—is staring up at the ceiling with a disgruntled look.

“So,” Prompto starts, and there’s a laugh in his voice that manages to make him sound both squeaky and nervous. “Guess we’re stuck?”

The young man slumps back into the far corner of the elevator with his arms crossed, and shoots a death glare at the control panel. “Seems like. You gonna press the alarm button?”

He blinks. Turns, and locates the button with the little ringing bell icon. Contrary to the image, it doesn’t make a sound when he pushes it, but it does light up.

After inspecting the panel for any other relevant buttons to press (there are none, unless they resort to pressing the _FIRE_ button to speed things up), he turns his back to it again.

Silence. Complete silence. Elevator music might be better, although it would probably come off as mocking. Prompto’s not about to offer to whip out a playlist on his phone. His fingers pick at the seams inside the pockets of his parka. “Ever get stuck in an elevator before?”

“Can’t say I have.” The guy’s voice is flat and disinterested. Prompto can read the mood, but he really hates silence like this. Especially when silence won’t distract him from being suspended in a steel box eight-and-a-half stories above the solid ground.

“Yeah me either. Had nightmares about it, but never in real life.” He laughs again.

The guy meets his eyes. Prompto blinks. He’s…pretty. Even in this dim emergency lighting, Prompto’s eyes are sharper than most people’s, and can see that his face is delicate—but in a way that’s striking, not infantile. His skin seems flawless, in contrast to Prompto’s smattering of freckles that only calms down around this time of year. His raven black hair frames his jaw line, brushes his shoulders, brings out the darkness of his eyes.

“You scared?” The guy doesn’t ask it in a mocking way, or anything. He seems to just be asking.

It’s a little too real for Prompto to lie. “Let’s just say I avoid high roller coasters,” he replies.

There’s an ambient banging noise, somewhere in the building, and it echoes up the elevator shaft. Prompto’s hands fly out to his sides before he realizes he’s reacting, grabbing the hand rails in a death grip. His knees bend, waiting for the elevator to shift even an inch. It feels hard to breathe, like the air's gotten thick or there's a weight on his chest.

His co-passenger slides down the wall onto his butt, and crosses his legs on the charcoal-grey floor mat. “If you sit down you’ll probably feel more steady,” he says levelly.

Prompto imagines letting go of the rails. “Naw, it’s cool,” he replies. It is very not cool. Nothing about this is cool.

The guy is frowning. First, he’s frowning at Prompto, then he’s frowning at the ceiling, then at the control panel, then where his hands are clasped on his knees. Finally he sighs and meets Prompto’s eyes again. “So, what’s your name?”

“Prompto. Prompto Argentum,” he replies.

“Where do you go to school?”

“Upper First Technical, in the artisan quarter,” he answers, gesturing at the blazer he’s wearing under his winter jacket. “You?”

“Kingsbridge Academy.”

Prompto resists the urge to whistle. That’s a _nice_ school.

More silence.

“So uh, what’s _your_ name?”

The guy sighs. “It’s Noctis.”

Oh fuck _._ Oh _fuck_ he looked familiar. “Noctis like…”

“The…prince. Yeah.” He leans his head back against the elevator wall and closes his eyes with another sigh.

 _Oh_ fuck. Just when he’d been loosening his grip on the hand rail.

“Nice to meet you? Then. Your…majesty.”

“It’s ‘royal highness,’ for a crown prince, but…seriously. Just Noctis, please.”

“Uh, alright.” He gets a glare from where the Crown Prince of Lucis, Noctis Lucis Caelum, is sitting on the floor. “Uh. Noctis. Nice to meet you.”

“Pleasure’s mine,” he tells him.

Even though he says it to be polite, Prompto can’t help smiling, just a bit. It feels weird with his mouth still half-numb, but he’s not even a Lucian by birth, and he’s just introduced himself to the actual crown prince.

“So uh.” Prompto has absolutely no idea where to take their conversation from here, but he can’t stop smiling. “Elevators, huh.”

For some reason, this makes Noctis burst into laughter, which he covers with a fist to his mouth. “Yeah. Elevators. You play King’s Knight, Prompto?” He nods his chin toward Prompto’s backpack, which slumped to the floor at some point since they came to a halt. It’s emblazoned with a King’s Knight patch across the front, and charms dangle from the zipper pulls.

Prompto’s eyes go wide. “Do…do _you_?” He asks almost reverently.

“Are you kidding? I love King’s Knight. Did you get the Yuletide weapons pack yet?”

Prompto lets himself slide down the wall until he’s sitting on the ground, and leans forward with his hands planted on his knees. “I’m not letting myself get it until exams are over, or I’m never going to manage to study again,” he says honestly. “But the Hollyberry Halberd looks so. Cool.”

He’s shrugging his jacket off and fishing his phone out of his pocket to boot the game up when the prince interrupts him. “Don’t you think…” Prompto looks up, pausing in mid-motion. “…Wouldn’t it be better if you save your phone battery? Just in case. I know mine’s probably half-dead.”

Right. They’re still stuck in an elevator.

He looks up overhead, at the single dim emergency light above them. He’s still stuck in an elevator, with the Crown Prince of Lucis. “Man this is weird,” he mutters.

“Yeah. Hey, uh, Prompto?”

He blinks, looking back down at Noctis. “Yeah?”

“You’re…drooling, I guess?”

Scrambling, Prompto wipes the back of his hand against his mouth, and sure enough, he’s drooled all down his chin and onto his shirt. “Oh shit, oh my god,” he mutters. He uses his sleeve of his school blazer to scrub at his face and down his button-up, but it just transfers spit from one spot to another. “I’m sorry, that’s so gross.” This dim lighting is a blessing, because his cheeks are definitely fire truck red right now. “I was just at the dentist, up on the twelfth floor. They had to give me freezing, and I guess I…forgot…”

Noctis has a little grin on his face. It’s not mean, or bullying, or embarrassed. He just looks like…he’s having fun. Prompto maybe starts to smile back too (although he does keep his mouth _closed_ this time).

“Hey, if you’re the prince…can you call somebody to get us out? Is that an abuse of power?”

Noctis shakes his head. “Not at all. I already texted my advisor. Signal is terrible in here but even if the text didn’t go through, he’ll notice I’m late and come to my last-recorded GPS location anyways.”

Prompto’s mouth is open again. “Dude. That’s intense.”

Noctis rubs the back of his neck. “He over-reacts,” he says softly.

“Well, that’s good that he does! I don’t want to be in here any longer than I have to be. I couldn’t eat before my appointment this morning, so I’m starving. Plus, I don’t wanna miss math. It’s my worst subject—I gotta keep up.”

“You want an apple?”

“Uh…” Prompto watches Noctis rummage through his own messenger bag, before pulling out a red apple and scrubbing it on his shirt sleeve.

He holds it out, across the span of the elevator carriage. “I sure as hell wasn’t going to eat it. I hear they’re good for your teeth?”

“If I take your only food and you starve to death in here, will I be executed?” It’s a half-joke.

When Prompto doesn’t reach out to take the apple, Noctis laughs and tosses it into his lap, where Prompto fumbles to stop it from rolling onto the dirty floor mat.

“Don’t worry about it. I’d probably resort to cannibalism first.”

Prompto lets out a surprised laugh before he can keep it down.

At that moment, there’s another echoing bang, and Prompto freezes, although Noctis doesn’t seem to hear. “What’s up?”

“I think they’re—” The elevator shudders, and the main lights flash back on in all their overwhelming florescent glory. The air circulating fan, which had apparently stopped, spins up again with a steady hum.

Prompto blinks spots out of his over-sensitive eyes, and pushes himself up off the floor. Noctis does the same and gets on his feet just as the elevator starts moving.

The light for the basement floor is no longer illuminated, and Prompto watches with a weird feeling of regret as the display counts floors down like seconds running down on a clock. Eight, seven, six floors left until the crown prince steps out of the elevator and goes back to the palace, and Prompto sneaks in late to math class. Life resumes.

“Hey, Prompto?”

Five, four.

“Yeah?” He looks up from the digital display.

“Could I see your phone?”

“Uh, yeah? Of course.”

He hands it over. Three, two.

Noctis begins tapping away at the phone.

One, zero.

The elevator chimes as it reaches the ground floor, as though everything is normal and the trip from upstairs wasn’t interrupted at all. Noctis hands his phone back with a quick “thanks.” The elevator doors slide open almost silently and reveal two stern-looking young men in the all-black attire that signals an attachment to the crown.

“Highness,” the smaller of the two says, stepping forward and giving the prince an efficient once-over as they exit.

“I’m fine,” Noctis replies, waving a hand dismissively. “It was like ten minutes.”

“Cut him some slack, Noct,” the larger—much larger—man beside him says, as Prompto tries to sneak past them without staring or eavesdropping. It’s time to come back down to earth. “Iggy almost had an aneurysm when you were late getting back to class.”

“That sounds like an Iggy problem to me,” Prompto hears the prince mutter as he’s almost left the lobby. Then, he shouts “Hey, Prompto!”

Prompto freezes in his tracks and whips around, cradling his apple to his chest like an idiot. “Yes, uh. Your royal highness?”

Noctis snorts. “Text me, okay?”

Prompto is standing frozen, unblinking, as his retinue ushers him away through a side door, fretting and chattering about safety protocols, but Prompto is too dumbstruck to move. Text…?

He whips his phone back out of his pocket, and opens his messages. His most recent conversation is a single outbound text, which says ‘ _Prompto’s phone_ ,’ and nothing else. The contact number is saved as ‘Noct.’

Prompto can feel his face light up with an ear-to-ear grin, looking down at his screen and the two words the crown prince wrote to connect them. After a moment, he opens the keyboard and sends ‘ _my KK username is sharpshooter6_ ’.

He stands there grinning like an idiot, becoming later and later for math with each passing second, until his phone buzzes with the reply. ‘ _mine's kings-nacht. see you later.’_

Prompto only manages to put away his phone when he almost drools on it.

* * *


End file.
